Date: Wed, 16 Jul 2003 13:14:43 -0700 (PDT) From: mycandlelight_dreams Subject: Swim Coach - chpt 14 THE NORMAL BORING DISCLAIMER: This story is FICTION, and just one of my fantasies. Any similarity to real persons is purely coincidental. Further, this story contains sexually explicit information between an adult and a teen-ager. If this type of material offends you, do NOT read further. However, if you like these kinds of stories, then read on and ENJOY! --- CHAPTER 14 --- "Don't think for a second you can replace me, you son-of-a-bitch!" I hesitated for a moment, my brain desperately seeking its library for the source of this voice. After a moment, it hit me. After all, I had only heard his voice a few times, so it wasn't like it was all that memorable. "How did you get my phone number?" I asked, feeling both angry and groggy at the same time. "Oh, you think you're soooo smart. I'll just beth you think I don't know what the fuckth is goin on." His slurred speech concerned me greater than the call itself. "Are you drunk?" "That's none oth your fuckin buthness." Then, there was a pause. At first, I thought he had hung up, but then I heard what sounded like sobbing. "What do you want from me? Why are you calling here?" My lack of patience really comes through when I haven't had my 'beauty sleep.' "Why? Why'd you do it?" "Do? Do what? Look, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm hanging up now, Mr. Telater, do you hear me?" I started to remove the receiver from my ear, when my eyes met Chris', who was filled with instant terror. "HEY! You can't juth fuckin hang up on me, you son-of-a-bith! You can't talk to me like a real man? You fuckin steal my wife and think you can get away wif it?" 'Holy Shit!' I thought to myself. Mr. Telater thinks I stole his wife! "You fuckt her didn't jya. Tell the truth, you fuckin son-of-a-bith!" "Mr. Telater, I am not having an affair with your wife, and frankly, I find the implication crude and inappropriate." "Oh, you fancy teachers are all the same. You got your fancy school, anf fancy clothes. Fuckin son-of-a-bitch. She's probably there with you now, ain't she? Put her cheap ass on the fuckin phone. I'll tell that bith a think or two." "Mr. Telater, clearly you're drunk and need to go to sleep. Good night." "You can't fuckin hang up on me. I know where you live, you son-of-a-bith!" I froze in place. Did he really know where I lived? By now, Chris had leaned in to overhear the conversation. He knew it was his dad, all right, and the fear in his eyes confirmed that Chris needed protection. There was no way in hell this man was coming to my apartment. Not with Chris there. "Mr. Telater, let me give you a cheap piece of advice. Go to bed, lose my number, and never harass me again, do you understand? I can make your life a living hell." "You fuckin talking to me? You think I'm aflaid of some two-timing son-of-a-bith?" "Harass me again, and I'll pay a little visit to the police and share what I know about a certain evening at your home." The phone was silent, and I could tell that even in his drunken stupor, his mind raced to place what information I could possibly have that would interest the police. I decided to add a little fuel to the fire. "Some would say what you did was immoral, and outright disgusting. Father's don't act that way." I heard him inhale deeply. You could almost hear the bells and whistles going off. "Don't believe a fuckin thin that little liar teld you." We were on the same page. "It's his word against mine!" "I don't think a jury will believe that, Mr. Telater, and I don't think you really do, either. Take my advice, leave me alone, leave Chris and his mother alone, and go far away. Live your life, and leave them out of it." "I...you...aw, fuck!" He slammed the phone down, and the loud sound made both Chris and I jump. I hung up the receiver. "Do you think...he'll come here?" Chris clung close to me, and I could feel his body shaking, despite the warmth of the room. "You're safe, Angel, as long as I'm around. Get up, now and get dressed." "Where we going?" "Home." "Home?" Chris looked at me, completely confused by what I was saying. I turned and faced him, taking his arms in my hands gently. "Listen to me, Chris. He's drunk, angry, maybe even hurt, I don't know. But one thing's for sure. He's not thinking straight, and your mom is all alone." My message came through loud and clear and Chris jumped from the bed. --- "Uhh, hello?" "Charlotte, it's Russell." "Russell? It's kinda late, don't you think?" Clearly, I had woken her, and as I looked down at my watch, the readout read 3:15. "Charlotte, listen to me. Chris and I are on our way there." "Is he all right?" Her voice clear, distinct and now with an air of worry. "Yes, yes, he's fine. Listen, please. Mr. Telater just called me." "What?" "Yes, and he sounded very erratic. He made some threats on me, and accused me of having an affair with you." "Oh my God. This is so stupid." "Well, it may be stupid, but I don't think you're safe there. I'm on my way." "Russell, this is ridiculous. Steven wouldn't come here." "I'm no so sure. He got MY phone number and says he knows where I live." "Oh my goodness." She gasped. "Charlotte, there's more." "More?" "I told him I know about the abuse." Charlotte fell silent. Her voice cracked a bit, and then she said, "But how did you know? I never told anyone." "Charlotte? He was abusing you too?" Charlotte began to sob, the damn of her pent up abusive memories flooding her mind. "Chris needed a father, and I needed a husband. It's what we women do." "I'm almost there, Charlotte. Hang on, I'm almost there." I hit END on my phone and looked over at Chris. He had his head down, and seemed lost in his own vicious memory. "Chris?" He let out a large cry, "I knew about it, Coach. I knew." "Hey, it's okay now. He's never going to hurt you or your mom again, do you hear me?" "I tried to stop him, but he just pushed me down. He was going to kill her. He was drunk and I'm not sorry I bit him. I was six, Coach. What else was I gonna do?" 'Good Lord,' I thought to myself. "Six? Chris, I'm so sorry." The tears began to stream down my lover's face, and I felt my heart crush in empathy for his pain. Through sobs, he muttered, "It wasn't the first time, and it wasn't the last." I placed my hand upon his leg, and Chris quickly grabbed with his own. He held tight to my hand the rest of the way to Charlotte's. Neither of us spoke until we arrived, but I could tell that Chris' mind was spinning. When we were about five minutes from the house, I picked up my cell phone. "Chris, I need my hand." Hesitantly he released it, only to grab my leg, in order to maintain some connection between us. I clicked in the speed dial number and another voice answered, crisp and wide-awake. "You know, Mate, it's a bit late for a night-cap, don't you think?" "David, I need your help." David was silent as I explained the events of the evening and as I was about to tell him that I was in town heading for Charlotte's, he interrupted me. "Where's the boy now?" "With me." "Good. Where are you?" "In Lakeview. I'm on my way to Chris' house." "Stoney and I will be there in ten minutes. Don't worry, Russell, no one's gonna hurt my man! What's the address?" I quickly recited the address and David hung up. "Who's 'Stoney?'" Chris had overheard the cell call. "Stoney Jackson." "Holy Fuck. You know the police chief too?" It was true, although I 'knew him' in the loosest sense of the phrase. Stoney Jackson was the biggest, meanest, ugliest black man I ever met. However, if you ever needed the law on your side, he was the best choice. He was really a friend of David's. A rather close friend, if you know what I mean, but as David says, 'any friend of mine is a friend of yours,' and so it went. Lakeview is a small place in this state, but Stoney Jackson runs it! I can honestly say that our crime rate has been the lowest in its history, and that we owe to Stoney. I pulled the Jetta up to the curb, and killed the engine. "Chris, listen to me for a minute." Chris turned and looked at me. "No matter what happens, I'm with you. I'll always be with you, but you have to trust me, okay?" "I do trust you, Coach. I love you." "I love you, too, Chris. Come here." I wiped the tears from his cheeks. "We have to be strong for mom, okay?" "Yes, Sir." Always the polite boy. We were about to enter the house, when I heard the all too familiar rumble from David's exhaust. He pulled right behind the Jetta, and another car pulled in behind his. David got out and yelled to the other car, "This is the place!" The man stepped out of the second car, and as soon as his large figure appeared in the streetlight, there was no question it was Stoney Jackson. I'd never seen him out of uniform, but having seen him that night, I kinda wish he'd kept it on. The shadow he cast practically reached the opposite curb, and he looked even more intimidating than I remember. It was when Chris clung to me that I realized I wasn't the only one intimidated. "It's okay. They're with me." I opened the door and led Chris inside, waiting in the foyer for my back-up team. As Charlotte entered the foyer, her satin robe tied tightly around her frail waist, David and Stoney entered the foyer, and closed the door behind them, locking it. "Goodness. Who are you?" "Charlotte, these are friends of mine. They're here to make sure there's no trouble." Charlotte scanned David quickly, but her attention lingered on Stoney. He had that affect on everyone. Stoney stepped forward, flipped open his wallet, exposing his shiny metal badge. "Chief Jackson, Maam. Sorry to bother you so late." "Oh my goodness, you're not a bother, but I really don't see what all the fuss is about." My mind stalled, and it took a moment for me to recover. Wasn't she just crying hysterically a few minutes ago? "Well, Maam. Domestic Violence is a very serious crime." As Stoney spoke, I could feel the windows vibrate. If this man's arms had half the power of his voice, I could only pray to never get punched by him. "Is there someplace we can sit down? I'd like to ask you a few questions." Charlotte escorted Stoney and David into a sitting room, while Chris stayed behind in the foyer. As the sitting room door shut, Chris looked up at me. "You really think he's coming here, don't you?" "Chris, you're very important to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you." --- The baseball bat crashed through the door, causing splinters of wood to fly in all directions. Another crash, and then another, until at last the frail door lost its grip and swung open. He stepped inside. It only took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His shoes crunched on the wood splinters as he moved inward, the bat resting on his shoulder. A green glow could be seen emanating from another room and he walked toward it. He could feel carpeting, then tile floor again. The glow was from a digital clock. He looked closer. 5:12. He lifted the bat, as though he were a professional baseball player, and swung with all his might, sending the bat crashing into the oven clock. The kitchen was instantly dark and as he turned to leave the room, the crunch of the glass under his feet, he thought he heard something. He stopped, frozen in place. He could hear his own breathing. 'Damn it, why did I drink so much?' He cursed himself through cloudy thoughts. "Oh my goodness!" Mrs. Huckstin cried out. She quickly turned, her bathrobe catching on the broken doorway. She only struggled for a moment, and tore the terry-cloth robe free. But, it was too late. The intruder had heard her gasp. He swung the bat around her body, lifting the old woman from her feet, the bat nestled tightly under her frail neck. She chocked and coughed, trying desperately to breath. The intruder pulled her inside the apartment, back across the splintered wood and through down on the soft carpeting. "Batter's up, Baby!" The intruder yelled as he lifted the bat high above him, only to bring it back down with greater speed upon Mrs. Huckstin's head. --- "Chris?" "Yes, Mom." "Chief Jackson wants to talk with you now. Can you come in here, please?" "Come with me, Coach. I don't want to do this alone." Chris grabbed my hand, and we joined the rest in the sitting room. "Just tell me what happened, Son." Chief Jackson mustered the best smile he could, although it was a far cry from any attractive smile. Unashamedly, Chris held my hand as he retold the story of his father's abuse, both to his mother, and that fatal day in his bedroom. A couple times, Chris began to break down, and I put my free arm around his shoulder. "It's okay, Chris, he's never going to hurt you again." Somehow, Chris managed to finish his recollection, and Stoney took his notes, writing in silence. Then, there was a long pause, all of our minds reeling from the history in this house. Finally, I broke the silence. "Stoney? What now?" "Well, it seems clear to me that the first thing you need is a restraining order. That will keep him from you legally." His last word concerned me. "And physically?" Stoney glared at me. He knew what I was getting at. It was the reason he and David were sitting there to begin with. Stoney was about to speak when we heard a loud bang on the front door. All of us, including Stoney jumped. I was about to get up, when David pushed his hand on my shoulder. "Let me." As David approached the door and was about to ask who was there, the door burst open, sending David falling backwards against the tile foyer floor. Steven Telater stepped inside, and seeing the man on the floor, yelled out, "Who the fuck are you?" David shook his head for a second and tried to regain his composure, attempting to stand up. "Oh no you don't." Steven swung the silver bloodied bat through the air and connected with David's chest, sending him backwards again. David hit his head on the Grandfather clock, smashing the glass and knocking him out cold. Of course, the noise had attracted our attention and Stoney was the first of our troop to reach the foyer. By now, most of the alcohol had worn off, and Steven was now operating on pure adrenaline. We took him by surprise, but this didn't seem to waver his strength. As Stoney moved forward, I moved in from the side. "I'm Chief Jackson, Mr. Telater. Put down the bat." "I know who the fuck you are, you black bastard. But, you're in MY house now." Stoney was about to pull the revolver from his holster, but somehow, Steven had anticipated the move, swinging the bat full strength across Stoney's arm, sending him crashing over David's limp body and into the railings of the staircase. I moved quickly and jumped onto Steven's back, my arms around his throat. Steven bucked and gasped, trying to remove me from his back. Then, almost as quickly as I had jumped on, Steven raced backwards, smashing me into the mirrored wall near the doorway. Smashing glass and breaking plaster echoed in the foyer, as I fell to the floor. "There you are, you lying little son-of-a-bitch!" Steven saw Chris, and dove for him. As soon as their eyes met, Chris ran from the room. "Get back here, you little fuck!" "Steven, no!" Charlotte tried to stop him. "Back off, Bitch!" He pushed her hard, sending her thin frame over the couch in the sitting room and on to the floor. Steven continued to chase the frightened boy, finally catching him and throwing him to the ground. "I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago, you lying little faggot!" He raised the silver bloodied bat high in the air, and just as he was about to wing downward, I grabbed it, pulling it from his grip. Steven quickly turned toward me, bringing his right arm into the air, fist clenched tight. As he swung, I held the bat in front of me with both hands, his fist connecting with the metal. He pulled back, cursing and growling like a rabid dog. Then, as though completely out of control, began swinging harshly. I did the best I could to defend myself, but within moments, his tight fist connected with my face, sending me backwards. Steven was about to lunge for me, when Chris grabbed his legs, sending the man falling forward. "Why, you little fuck," Steven yelled, quickly regaining his composure and throwing both his fists into Chris' chest. Chris cried out, and fell backwards on the kitchen floor. Steven got up, knelt over the trembling boy, grabbed his shirt in his left fist, and held his right fist in the air. CLICK! "I'm an excellent shot, Telater. And at this distance, I guarantee I won't miss." Steven slowly turned his head, his eyes meeting the end of a .45 caliber pistol. The dark hold seemed as large as a train tunnel. "Let the boy go." Stoney ordered. Steven released his grip, and Chris scurried out from underneath him. Chris ran to me and knelt down beside me. "I'm all right, Chris," I said, my jaw throbbing. "Oh, God, Coach, I'm so sorry," he was now kissing my cheek, the tears streaming from his face. "It's okay now, Chris." Stoney pulled Steven to his feet and slammed him against the kitchen wall. "Mr. Telater, you're under arrest for Domestic Violence, Breaking and Entering, Assault with a deadly weapon, and Assault on a police officer. You have the right to remain silent..." Stoney continued to recite the Miranda Rights, and placed the handcuffs he held in his pocket onto Steven. Charlotte entered the kitchen in time to hear Stoney finish giving Steven his rights. "Do you understand your rights, Mr. Telater?" Stoney pulled up on his arms a bit further. "I said, do you understand?" "Yes! Fuck!" Steven cried out, the pain shooting up his arms deep into his shoulders. "Let's go." Stoney pulled him from the wall, through the sitting room and out through the foyer, David following, rubbing his head. "Are you all right?" I asked, touching David on the shoulder. "Yeah, Mate, I'll live. Quite a kicker, though. Probably have a nasty headache in the morn." I hugged David tightly and kissed him on the cheek. Charlotte seemed not so much surprised, but more that her suspicions of me were confirmed. "You're welcome," David said, smiling at me. Then, he turned to Chris. "You needn't worry about your old man anymore, Boy." He smiled at him, patted him on the shoulder, and walked out to catch up with Stoney, who was already securing Steven in the back of his car. As the three of us watched the two cars pull away, we simply stood there in silence. Call it shock, exhaustion, disbelief. Call it what you want. There simply were no words. As the tail lights faded, I swung the door back into its frame and propped a chair in front of it to keep it closed. "I'll fix that up in the morning, all right?" Charlotte looked at the door, then looked at me, and then looked at Chris, trying to fit the many puzzle pieces, that were now soaring through her mind, into some rational order. Then, softly, gently, Charlotte took my hand and looked deep into my eyes. "Russell, I need to know something." I knew what was coming before the words escaped her lips, and Chris knew it too. Still, he refused to lie about who he was. Chris stood next to me, and before she could ask her question, Chris wrapped his arm around my waist. A single tear flowed down her cheek, and she mustered a tender smile. "Then, it's true. You're gay, aren't you, Russell?" It was a moment of truth, and I felt, for Chris' sake, as well as my own, that the truth was my only option. I softly nodded. Charlotte turned and sat on the couch. "Mom?" Chris went to her side. "Mom? Are you okay?" She paused for a moment and then gathered her courage, gazing upon her only son's face. "I had my suspicions, Chris. And even after hearing about your father, I figured it was just a passing thing. I figured you'd grow out of it somehow. And then," She paused, looking down at the carpet, then looked up at me. "I saw you two together. I knew, I don't know how, but I knew." "Mom, I love him." "Oh, Chris." She hugged him tightly, the tears now flowing freely. "All I ever wanted was for you to grow up happy." I suddenly felt out of place, and started to back up, to allow them their time together. "Russell?" Charlotte held out her hand to me. "You're part of this family now, Russell, in more ways than I ever expected, I guess, but an important part!" I took her hand and sat down next to her. "Thank you, Russell. For loving my son so much." --- After a couple of hours of talking through the events of the night, Charlotte let out a large yawn. "I'm turning in." She turned and kissed Chris on the head, and then hugged me. Then, smiling at me, she left and walked upstairs, leaving Chris and I alone in the sitting room. Chris snuggled up close to me and I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. Then, softly, he whispered, "You make me happy." --- I hope you're enjoying this adventure. I welcome comments and questions, so, write me at mycandlelight_dreams@yahoo.com.